


Guitar Zero

by nochick_fics



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 19:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10623900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nochick_fics/pseuds/nochick_fics
Summary: Jean schools Breda on the finer points of playing fake guitars.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2012 for FMA Slashfest.

Maybe it was the beer talking--and let’s face it, it usually was--but there was something both ridiculous and endearing about the sight of Heymans Breda wielding a Guitar Hero controller and gyrating drunkenly while playing “Bark at the Moon” by Ozzy Osbourne.  Very badly, at that.  A highly amused Jean Havoc leaned back in his chair and watched the tragedy unfolding before him with a cigarette pinched between his fingers and a bottle of beer nestled between his legs, cringing at each missed note.

So very many missed notes.

“Man, you really suck,” he finally noted with a lopsided grin and a shake of the head. 

“Shut up,” Breda shot back.  “I’d like to see how well you play after seven beers.”

“More like eight,” Jean said.

(Actually, it was nine, but who was counting?)

“See?  It’s not my fault.  My dexterity is… um…”  Breda paused and frowned, the game forgotten.  Not that it mattered much score-wise.  “Broken,” he decided. 

Jean smirked through a cloud of smoke.  He did not have the heart to tell his friend that his game play had left much to be desired  _way_  before they even started imbibing. 

He crushed out his cigarette, grabbed his beer, and stood up.  “Okay, first of all, don’t touch the whammy bar anymore.”

“But I like the whammy bar,” Breda insisted, dangerously close to pouting.

“I know, and that’s not helping.  Trust me.   _Leave the whammy bar alone_.”   Jean walked over to Breda and examined the big man’s death grip on the neck of the guitar-shaped controller.  “And look at you.  You’re holding onto the damn thing like you’re afraid it’s going to run away.  Here, relax your wrist and loosen your fingers.”

He took a swig of beer--priorities, after all--and then set about prying each of Breda’s digits from the controller.  When he was eventually able to manage that, he rearranged them so that they rested gently along the keys. 

“Like that.”  Jean glanced up and found Breda staring at him with an expression that was thoughtful and surprisingly sober taking into account all the alcohol presently running through his system, and he was immediately and starkly aware of the heat of the other man’s fingers against his own.  And it felt… kind of nice. 

Wait, what?  No it didn’t!

“Okay, try it now,” he instructed shakily, snatching his hand away as if it had been burned. 

Lighting another cigarette, Jean stood back and let Breda do his thing, and he tried hard not to think about much of anything else, especially with regards to questionable gazes and fingers intertwined against a fake guitar.  This time around, Breda attempted Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” and while his performance was still pretty god-awful, it was a slight improvement over his previous effort.  Although his overall score was hardly something to write home about, he was actually able to play the song in its entirety, without getting booed off the stage--a first. 

“See?” Jean felt absurdly proud of his friend’s accomplishment.  “Keep at it and you’ll be a regular pro.”

“I don’t know,” Breda murmured.  “It might take me all night.”

It was an innocent enough statement… or so Jean thought until he caught Breda staring at him again in a way that suggested far more than simple video game bonding between buddies. 

Maybe.

Jean sighed and cracked open another beer, because obviously the key to dealing with the mystery of what may or may not have been some very subtle sexual innuendo was to become as drunk as humanly possible.  Over the next hour, Breda’s skills gradually improved to the point where Jean even allowed him to once again touch the sainted whammy bar that he so desperately desired.

A few nights later, Breda ended up touching a  _lot_  more than that.

Mystery solved.


End file.
